


direct sunlight

by loveflowers



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, My First AO3 Post, One Shot, Post-Time Skip, essentially a love letter to hinata's character, kenma is in love with his bf, lots of hinata/sun comparisons, maybe they're a little out of character???, sir these are my emotional support boyfriends, that thing in hq where food is a metaphor or smth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25707352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveflowers/pseuds/loveflowers
Summary: Kenma counts the most prominent freckles and vaguely connects them to some constellation or the other. Spending every waking moment in the sun, chasing after dreams with an insatiable appetite for more, Shouyou has managed to awaken the entire universe on his very skin.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 8
Kudos: 97





	direct sunlight

Kenma feels like he’s been lying in direct sunlight for hours. Shouyou is bright, like the light shines from within him, and everyone who meets him is drawn into his orbit. And if Shouyou is the sun, then what is Kenma but yet another planet moving around him?

Even with the sun barely peeking over the horizon, Shouyou is warm. His body burns into Kenma’s side. Pale golden light streams through the gap in the curtains, painting his sun-kissed, toned limbs. Kenma counts the most prominent freckles and vaguely connects them to some constellation or the other. Spending every waking moment in the sun, chasing after dreams with an insatiable appetite for _more_ , Shouyou has managed to awaken the entire universe on his very skin.

Sunlight passes over eyelids fluttering open. Chocolate irises, clouded with sleep, meet Kenma’s.

“Good morning,” Shouyou mumbles. His voice is husky, a low noise in his throat. “You’re up early.”

If Shouyou rises with the sun, then Kenma rises four and a half hours later. But that doesn’t matter.

“It’s worth it,” he mutters, “I get to see you before you cycle off on me again.”

Shouyou pouts and presses a kiss to his forehead, tucking a strand of raven hair dipped in blonde behind Kenma’s ear. It’s not so different, Kenma thinks, to holding a freshly bought popsicle out in the summer heat. Shouyou’s fingers are hot with the blessings of every star while Kenma’s skin is the tundra that begs for their warmth.

He loves in short touches and nonchalant truths, while Shouyou loves in grand, spontaneous declarations and scalding kisses. He wakes up and all the words are already there— repeated ‘ _I love you_ ’s and kisses acting as stamps sealing every affirmation, filling Kenma with the energy to survive.

“Early morning practice?” he asks as Shouyou sits up, flaming orange hair tousled oh-so endearingly and an expanse of tanned skin hidden by a grey tank top.

“Yep. I’ll make breakfast and then I’m off. We’ve got a big match coming up soon, so Coach is grilling us extra hard.”

Kenma’s side longs for Shouyou’s heat again. But this is how it is most mornings. Shouyou is up at five without delay. He cooks breakfast so Kenma won’t endanger his heart through more microwavable food, and then he’s off. Off to polish his instincts, off to grow.

Kenma watches him pull the curtains apart and daylight surges into their bedroom. It feels right, to see his boyfriend standing in the sun. He takes a deep breath, eyes closed and head titled back, soaking in the natural light with a small smile. It’s moments like these that remind Kenma daily that he is impossibly in love with Hinata Shouyou.

To the list of Shouyou's love languages, Kenma adds cooking. The kitchen is alive with the sizzling of the skillet and the steady thunk of a knife against a cutting board. They’ve changed out of night clothes and washed— Shouyou dressed in a T-shirt that perfectly accentuates the years of work he’s put into his body, and Kenma has tied his hair up and has donned a presentable hoodie. The aroma of good, healthy food brings comfort to his chest and stomach. It’s seldom he gets to help his boyfriend even in the smallest ways, like this. While the other man dices the tomatoes, onions and greens with practiced ease, Kenma stirs a spoonful of miso paste into a pot of bubbling water. Shouyou thanks him with a chaste kiss.

They sit opposite each other, dishes spread out in front of them. It’s a rainbow of colour— the slight yellow of the omelette peppered with pops of red and green, the bananas and rosy apples arranged neatly to the side, the perfectly round mounds of rice and the translucent hue of the steaming miso soup, chunks of tofu swimming in its midst.

Kenma folds his hands and murmurs ‘ _itadakimasu_.’ It’s a thank you to the harmony of nature and labour that brought this food to his plate. It’s a thank you to Shouyou, who is the reason his appetite is as big as it is now, in more ways than one. He hears the same phrase across the table and only then does he pick up his chopsticks, reaching for an omelette roll and biting into it. The subtle salty flavour reminds him of Shouyou, and he’s certain that he can never eat another omelette roll ever again without having that very thought. His stomach, which had been grumbling for a good while, sighs in content along with him.

“How’s the food?” Shouyou asks eagerly. Kenma swallows.

“Great, as always.”

Kenma often imagines what it would be like, fourty or so years into the future when he can’t work like he used to and Shouyou’s athleticism wanes. Maybe they’ll sit like this, eating hearty meals and relishing each others company. He wonders if their appetites will ever falter. Looking at the redhead chew his food, utmost glee evident on every bit of his face, Kenma decides that it would take one hell of an incident to ever dent Shouyou’s hunger; in volleyball, or in life, or in food.

He waits for him to finish his meal. Kenma has insisted many times over that he simply go ahead, but he never does. When he shovels the last spoonful of rice into his mouth, chews and swallows, only then does his boyfriend get up.

“Do you want me to wash up?” Shouyou asks. Kenma’s chest swells with affection.

“Of course not. Go do your thing. Come home safe.”

Shouyou kisses his chapped lips. If Kenma had to choose a favourite kiss of theirs, after hours of deliberation he might choose this one. It has everything that the both of them want to say but could not for fear of running out of time. It’s a kiss that neither of them would regret if today was their last.

Shouyou grins at him, wide and bright, gathers his things and he’s out the door. With him he takes his light, but like the sun he leaves lingering warmth in his trail. Kenma watches him go from the window, cycling off into the distance, radiating confidence and ambition. He thinks that maybe, some of that confidence and ambition rubbed off on him too.

**Author's Note:**

> hehehe this is my first ever work on ao3,,,,, i didn't expect it to go like this but i'm definitely not complaining  
> feel free to leave feedback below <3 stay safe lovelies
> 
> (update: edited to fix some grammar)


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